Dead Pet City
by Giveortake
Summary: Shizaya. There's been a terrible change in the world, and Izaya's got a feeling a flickblade won't do him much good anymore. Due to a major logical flaw on my behalf, this story will not be completed.
1. Don't Nom Your Master

Izaya sighed as his mind was sent into bliss again. The roaming fingers trailed along his body, memorizing every curve, line, or tiniest bump with such delicacy so as not to break him. He moaned in soft approval as the equally roaming mouth trailed sloppy kisses from the crook of his neck down to one of his nipples. The expert tongue wrapped around the quickly hardening bud and gentle teeth nipped at it, making Izaya shudder with delight. One of the hands reached up and tweaked the other one, giving it much needed attention. The mouth on his body smirked, aware of the affects his ministrations. Izaya's body tasted wonderfully under him.

At first, he had been repulsed by his hunger, his need for the raven haired man. Over time, with the help of many an encouraging, erotic glance from Izaya and many curses from Shizuo's mouth, he was able to finally enjoy himself while he greedily devoured the pale, marked flesh under his lips. The hunger burning inside of him was hard to control, and the demon continued to torment him while Izaya squirmed under his every touch. What was left of his ever decreasing sanity was slowly slipping away, every day he succumbed to the hunger he lost another battle.

He secretly enjoyed it, he would imagine.

Izaya certainly didn't object.

Shizuo just craved more. His lips traveled downwards, nipping possessively the whole way. Izaya shifted, slightly uncomfortable. "Hey, watch it. I'm too delicate for big strong Shizu-chan~" He warned, keeping his normal confident air laced through his words, though a small hint of concern could be heard.

If Shizuo had heard him, he didn't pay attention. He continued going lower, down to where he knew Izaya was sweetest. His lingering kisses and nips trailed down to the hem of Izaya's pants. His teeth firmly grabbing the hemline, he tugged almost viciously. Izaya sprang up instantly from his carefree lounging position and whacked the protozoan on the head. "Hey!"

Shizuo obediently stopped his rampage against Izaya's clothes and looked up at the crimson eyes, with a blank stare, cloth still clenched tightly between his teeth, almost like a confused puppy staring at it's master. Izaya gave him an amused grin and patted the blonde's head.

"You haven't been the same ever since you got infected. Alas, you make a great, _obedient _pet now." he sighed dramatically, and Shizuo mumbled a moment before letting go of his pants and laying his head down in Izaya's lap. He hummed softly when the informant stroked his hair absentmindedly. "Still curious as to how you managed to resist the virus, at least partially." he sighed again.

Izaya looked out the balcony window and gave a triumphant grin, his hand trailing down to the gun he now kept by his side. Times had changed, and his flickblade wouldn't help him much nowadays.

Ikebukuro looked so lovely in flames and ruin, it really did.

The zombies, though... They were a bit troublesome. Luckily he had the strongest one in Ikebukuro under his command.

Oh how good it felt to be immune.

* * *

So, um. If you've read this far, I have to say thanks! :3 I hope you enjoyed the most random story plot I've ever come up with (ever since Yoda took Pikachu out of a microwave and chucked him into battle. :| That story will never make it onto this site xDD )

This will be continued, although I can't say it'll be in chronological order. You cannot order inspiration into something that makes sense, ne?

Ahh well~ I hope you enjoyed this, and I hope you're willing to stick around to see what comes up next!


	2. The First Wave

It's been forever since the "invasion" had started. Izaya could still remember the first day he was greeted with a zombie-riddled Ikebukuro. He looked around at the rubble, tutting softly with a frown. It was still pretty then, the world wasn't so ruined like it is now. It's funny how every thing changes so quickly when humans are no longer at the top of the, er, food chain.

It had been a long, boring day, even for Izaya. The humans hadn't been doing anything interesting, much to his dismay. He spun on his chair, bored out of his insanely brilliant mind. Even the Dollars had been slow, and he was certain that nothing important was going on, nothing that would keep them offline at such a boring time.

Just then, the front door clicked. Izaya beamed and bounced out of his chair over to the door. "Why, Namie-san! About time you showed up~ Izaya-chan is boreddd~" he purred, leaning towards the door with his hands behind him in a mockery of innocence.

His eyes widened and he shifted away instinctively when the door opened, to reveal poor Namie. She looked over at him with tired, pained eyes. One hand covered her neck, and the blood spilling all over it and down her once-pretty shirt screamed she should have died from the wound twenty minutes ago.

The look on her face said she knew that.

"Izaya.." she mumbled, her voice gurgling a little from what could only be blood in her throat.

The informant's eyes widened and he backed away in disgust, and the beginnings of morbid fear. "N-namie..." His hand instinctively went to his pocket, fidgeting for his flickblade. "I hope you don't plan on wearing that shirt out any time soon." he managed with a weak laugh. A weak one.

His jest went unnoticed. She stepped further into the room with a slow, heavy gait. Izaya refrained from crinkling his nose at the blood that dripped on his perfect carpet with every step she took. There were more important things at hand to worry about. Like, _why _she was bleeding.

"Izaya..." she cleared her throat, a horrid gurgling sound, and her eyes looked like they were losing focus. "You need to... Don't go outside. Mess, trouble, fires..." she stumbled and fell on all fours, proceeding to hack up the remaining blood in her frail body.

Izaya felt a strong urge to hurl. Part of him screamed "My carpet!"

And then she collapsed completely, becoming eerily still.

He didn't move.

She didn't budge.

With this horrid sinking feeling, he forced himself to sneak over to her side, though stay a safe distance away from the puddle of blood. "Namie?"

He felt like something was terribly wrong. No, he _knew _there was something wrong. His grip was tight on his flickblade while he knelt down to examine her with morbid curiosity. She certainly looked dead now. Looked like death had managed to catch up to her. Except her eyes. They hadn't closed, which was certainly creepy.

They twitched.

And it was only because of his lightning fast reflexes, honed from years of dodging pedestrians and public property alike, that he missed a particularly vicious swipe from the woman. Izaya had scooted back another foot before the other arm lunged after him, nearly missing his feet. "Namie?"

The woman pulled herself back up onto all fours and glared daggers at him. He felt a cold shiver run down his back from the look her eyes gave. They were still glazed over, but they stared directly into his own. Each one staring separately. The knowledge of that sent another shiver down his spine.

Namie made a horrid sound, like a growl and a gargle, and charged after him, still crawling about on all fours. Izaya had darted up and dashed out of her path, flickblade already out and ready in his hand. "If you hated me enough to try something like this you should have tried it years ago, Namie-san!" He giggled, trying to keep up his facade but really only managing to sound like a completely terrified fool. He didn't like sounding like a fool, and changed his smirk into a more serious design.

Slow to turn around, Namie gurgled again and managed to start dashing towards him, lifting almost into a lope that was surprisingly fast for someone who was supposed to have died. He kicked over the couch and she climbed it. He bounced off one of the walls and changed direction quickly, she ran into the wall and turned herself before following after him again. Izaya, ever the vigilant observer, continued to make hard turns, effectively slowing her down. His pride boosted. "Is there something wrong, Namie-san? Can't you catch me?" he called behind him with a triumphant grin.

He proceeded to do the dumbest thing he could have possibly done at that moment: he looked behind himself to stick his tongue out at her and ran straight into the counter in his kitchen. Izaya, effectively getting the wind knocked out of him and earning himself a bad case of whiplash, flopped onto the kitchen tile as gracefully as a dying fish.

One eye pried open to see the wide, gaping mouth of Namie lunging viciously towards him.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Listening to awesome music helps inspire fight scenes. xD This thing was mostly written for the longest time, so today I finally got off my lazy rear and finished it. I have a good idea where I want the story to go now, too so hopefully I won't be too long in writing the next part.

Anywhoo, thanks for reading!


	3. Heading Out

Izaya leaned against the refrigerator, running a shaky hand through his hair as the appliance continued to hum, oblivious to the state of chaos he had just faced.

_What happened?_

"Oh yeah.." he chuckled, weakly, and looked over to the giant puddle of blood and severed pieces of what once was Namie. "No. Not Namie. A zombie." he shook his head, turning away in disgust.

"Stupid woman, getting infected like that..." he mumbled, unwittingly thinking back.

She had jumped him,and he had thrown an arm in front of his face as protection. Izaya clenched his teeth; she was clawing and mauling whatever she could get her teeth on. Scooting away feebly, he cried out in pain after she clamped down hard. His free arm flailed for something to attack her with, with his flickblade tossed harmlessly to the other side of the room. His fingers slid across another long, deadlier weapon. A kitchen knife. Izaya swung his arm around at her, spinning the unfamiliar blade until it faced upwards and buried it in her neck, flicking it to the side and ripping it out only to bury it to the hilt again. Namie screamed, coughing and spilling blood all over him. His arm drew back to his body before rocketing back and punching her, hard. He hissed from the recoil stretching down his arm, but she flung off him. Now, with both hands on the knife, he brought it down again and again blindly, making sure she would never be able to attack him again.

Izaya drew his good hand down his face in attempts to calm himself. Anything to regain his lost composure. He made the mistake of looking at his ruined arm. He had a vague memory of the old zombie movies where the bitten would become one of the pack, and his blood ran cold. "Ahh, damn. I'm already doomed." he whispered, shaking. Closing his eyes, he leaned against the fridge again and bit his lip. _Deep breaths. Deep, deep breaths. Keep calm. It'll go through your system even faster the harder your heart beats._ His fingers slid up to his neck, checking his pulse. He mentally cursed himself. _Of course it'll be beating fast right now, you almost got devoured! _Izaya sighed and covered his eyes with his hands.

"... I'm going to die."

"I'm going to become some mindless, brain-eating zombie."

"I'm going to be... just like every other human."

A dark feeling welled up inside him, and Izaya did all he could to keep himself from falling into it. It wouldn't do him any good anyways, falling into depression during his last days (hours, minutes, seconds?) of sanity. With a shakiness only equivalent to knowing your own death date, Izaya stood up and glided over to his desk. "Maybe, if I write, I can distract myself... Keep my sanity, even if it's just for a while longer."

So he wrote. All day. He wrote about Namie, how she died, how she came back and chased him around the apartment, how he could slow her down by turning, how he had ran into the counter and how he had killed her. He wrote about how he had been bitten and how he felt like his mind was slipping. He wrote until his head swam with words and letters and the throbbing pain and bleeding from his arm was too much to bear.

He stumbled into the bathroom and pulled out some rubbing alcohol, painkillers, and bandages. With a towel clenched firmly in his mouth, he poured the alcohol onto a cloth and dabbed at the wound and the surrounding area. It stung, and he stumbled to the tiled floor instantly, tears stinging his eyes and the cloth filling his tightly clenched mouth. Izaya panted, squeezing his eyes shut until he could pry one open, just enough to continue cleaning the wound throughout the rest of the night.

By the time the sun was debating whether to rise or not, he had fallen asleep in the bathroom, leaning up on the tub with his arm mostly bandaged. His dreams were fitful, filled with Namie's worried face before it twisted in rage into a monster that devoured him. Izaya jolted awake and regretted it from the pain. He swallowed another painkiller before he finished the bandaging. His stomach rumbled. Stumbling to the kitchen, he made sure to go around the long way so he wouldn't have to step over the body. He ached all over. Stretching, he opened the fridge and tutted in disapproval. The power had gone during the night. Anything that was perishable was hours past saving. He opted for a bagel.

Izaya had been staring out his large windows for a few hours now, watching for any signs of life (or un-life for that matter) only to find that the city was very, very still. _I wonder if Ikebukuo is any livelier..._ He thought, and his eyes traveled down to his wounded arm.

_I should have turned by now._

_Maybe that's a lie._

Izaya was done waiting. He stood, strode boldly to the kitchen and picked up the knife, washing it off in the sink before setting it down on the counter. He snagged the painkillers from the bathroom, along with any bandages he still had. With a fresh change of clothes and these new accessories, he stood in the doorway. The knife weighed heavily in his hand compared to how light his flickblade was, a constant reminder of how things had changed.

Taking a deep breath, Izaya opened the door and strode outside.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Okay, so once again, I didn't get as far as I wanted. Oh well, it'll _have_ to be next chapter, it'll have to be. For these first three chapters, I was trying to keep the chapter sizes around the same, but they're so short in my eyes I keep wanting to write more. I'll probably start messing around with appropriate chapter lengths for a few more chapters until I find something I like. Until then, enjoy!


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